


Just like an empty boulder in my heart [Reddie]

by rabid_lunacy



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Richie is moving away, Richie just doesn’t want to leave his home, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Eddie consoling crying Richie, Soft Richie Tozier, this is mostly after the book, warning this may hurt your heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 16:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21479287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_lunacy/pseuds/rabid_lunacy
Summary: Basically Richie moving away. After the events from the book, where he supposedly leaves Derry at 13. What’s not shown in the book, though, are the others’ exact reactions. How can 7 perfectly fitting pieces of puzzle finally part?+ Richie being an idiot and not recognizing his young romantic attraction towards a certain asthmatic boyRichie beamed at the boy, but there was something new, something slightly odd shinning in his usual goofy smile. Richie’s eyes wondered around the cute boy’s scowl, but they seemed full of regret and a somehow guilt.One more day, and he’d probably never see this face again.The taller boy’s grin turned into a lingering fond smile, gazing at Eddie with soft eyes and a sparkle of affection.He didn’t want to go.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak
Kudos: 21





	Just like an empty boulder in my heart [Reddie]

**Author's Note:**

> You can find this story on tumblr!  
You can leave requests/prompts for fanfics you’d want me to do on my tumblr account: https://spaghetwardhoezier.tumblr.com/

Richie was moving away.

He was leaving his, for 13 years now, ‘sweet’ home. It was an odd place, sure; a dirty bottle filled up ‘til the neck with grotesque hobos waiting ‘round the corner and old gruesome memories forever held hostage in the attic of his mind. But he _did_ find comfort in the place and in its terrible uncannily nature. He got used to it, anyways. It all became normal for him, the usual.

So what would happen when the usual changed? When the places he’s got used to, when the so familiar faces of his friends would turn into strange, new silhouettes? 

_His friends._ Perhaps they may have been the ones that helped him convert the oddness into succor, the ones that gave him support, warm hands upon his shoulders and sweet solace clung around his heart when he needed it.

His friends. The people he ought to never forget.

His friends that he was currently amid of, sitting on the concrete edge of the embankment, playing ducks and drakes. He was so preoccupied with the blubber thoughts floating around his mind that his gaze didn’t follow Stan’s bouncing rock at all. The pebble went flying out of the boy’s tight grip and made a joyful little gambol into the water before sinking heavily into the river, followed by an annoyed little snort uttered by Stanley, together with a click of the tongue.

“Tsk-tsk; Stanny, weak throw!” Beverly exclaimed from near Stan, shaking her head slightly. It was one of the rare days when she was wearing a dress, yellow pastel slowly transmuting into a white in the morning light, printed with red roses. The scarlet shades and white gleams made the dress look more like a bright silk tablecloth bruised by some smears of red expansive wine than anything. “Your turn, Richie.” she continued, her gaze still glued to the sparkly streamlets of water, wondering around the place where Stanley’s stone went sinking down. The girl’s curious peer only moved to meet Richie’s concentrated expression a few seconds later, when she found out that she hasn’t yet dug any reply. 

“Rich?” Beverly asked again, eyebrows furrowed slightly and with a little pout, still waiting for the upcoming response.

Richie was still, though, lost in his own mind. The oncoming words that would usually blurt out of his mouth seemed to be trapped inside his head, speaking loudly and rambling together in there instead, bouncing on the thick walls of his mind, pleading to get out. He wouldn’t let them go, though. He couldn’t let his unfortunate news leave his head, he couldn’t spill out what he was feeling, the dreadful fist that seemed to be locked around his heart, squishing and grabbing at whatever piece of serenity it might have left.

“Tuh-Tozier!” Bill exclaimed as well, his tone a little rougher than Beverly’s, but still kept in the same gentle and playful rhythm. The stuttering boy lightly shoved his shoulder against Richie’s, in hope to finally catch his friend’s attention.

And, truth be told, he fortunately did.

Richie went flying out of his haze, quicker than the pebble plunged roughly out of Stanley’s fist earlier. “N-No wuh-w-worries, s-s-señor!’’ Richie spoke in his best Stuttering Bill Voice. “Juh-Just tuh-tuh-toughts wondering r-’round my h-h-head, ol’ Bill.”

“You’re a tuh-t-turd, Tuh-Trashmouth.” Bill said, but he was smiling. “Your t-t-turn.”

Richie tried to push his thoughts away as he picked up the bluntest rock he could eye and turned around to Eddie, who was sitting right behind him. He smirked briefly and grasped the stone tightly in his hand, holding his fist out to the smaller boy. 

“Kiss for good luck?” Richie proposed as he winked at Eddie.

“Y-yuk!” Eddie immediately replied as he winced and made a face, turning his head slightly to the right. “How long ago have you even washed those hands last, Richie?” 

Richie beamed at the boy, but there was something new, something slightly odd shinning in his usual goofy smile. Richie’s eyes wondered around the cute boy’s scowl, but they seemed full of regret and a somehow guilt. _ One more day, and he’d probably never see this face again. _

The taller boy’s grin turned into a lingering fond smile, gazing at Eddie with soft eyes and a sparkle of affection.

He didn’t want to go.

Eddie’s gaze moved to meet Richie’s and the small boy was a little taken aback by the unusual expression resting on his friend’s face. He frowned a bit, but before he could say anything, the trashmouth’s expression shivered and the fond look vanished, flying away like it had never been there, replaced by the same shit-eating grin as usual. The affection uttered by that big fond smile that made Eddie’s heart warm up instantly seemed to have been nothing but a strange mirage. Richie then looked away, trying to focus on his rock instead.

_ But he would. He’d move away in one day._

Richie shook the pebble lightly in his taut fist and then threw it, letting it float away from his grip into the thin air, before the stone briefly landed into the Kenduskeag.

_ it made one hop into the water, _

_then it made two,_

_then three._

_And then it drowned, sinking down the dirty stream as if it had never even been there._

“Not bad... Not bad at all.” Ben remarked from the back and Richie smirked, satisfied with his throw.

The rest of the afternoon went just like that, rounded up with jokes and laughter and splotches of water; but Richie’s heart never stopped bleeding with emotion. Emotion and anxiety. 

He’d try to crack a joke, but his mind seemed to refuse to come up with anything else but past memories, of what he had and what he was about to leave behind. All his friends, all this time they’d spent together... It’ll be nothing but a void. A void in his heart and mind that he’d never be able to fill up again.

“Ok, what’s wrong?” Eddie asked as they were heading to their houses, walking down Kansas street. All the others have already got back to theirs, their ‘homes’, leaving those two alone, still sauntering lazily under the once scorching sun, now hardly settled down by the slightly chilly evening.

‘Home’. Richie would never truly discern the concept of that. Was home a building? He imagined it ought to be. But home was supposedly an utterly safe place, and not ever has he felt that sweet welfare securing around his soul as much as when he’d be amid the losers.

So he pondered the fact that home must be more than a place, more than Derry that he would be soon enough leaving behind. It were his friends, family, merriment. He vaguely questioned if he could ever truly be happy again, without the losers there with him.

Richie looked startled for a second, before covering it all up with a smug smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Nothin wrong in her’, lil fella.” he said. “Jutht thom-”

“Cut the bullshit, Richie. What’s wrong?”

The taller boy cleared his throat and looked to the side, afraid that if he’d spend another moment gazing at Eddie’s confused pout and burning freckles, it will be even harder later on for him to leave the image behind. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Really.” he lied, attempting to a more serious tone. The thing is, he had never been great at acting all serious and stiff or maybe acting like his true self, letting his feelings all exposed under somebody else’s discernment. He didn’t want to be vulnerable. No. He’d cover it all up with jokes.

But before he was even able to crack one up, one velvet hand seemed to be gently dropped on his right shoulder. 

“Richie...” a whisper escaped Eddie’s lips and Richie’s heart shivered at the sound because Eddie seemed... concerned. Genuinely concerned.

Richie bit his lip so he could stop the halos of tears from blemishing his gaze. He looked down at the dark cement and deepened his teeth into his lower lip. “I’m moving away.” he finally whispered as he set free both his bleeding lip and tear, until then restrained, gleaming briefly under the dying evening sun.

He hitched in a sob as he got trapped in a tight hug between the other boy’s arms. Richie began shaking slightly, melting away from the hot tears gushing down his cheeks and the warming sensation that now seemed to be taking a hold of the boy’s heart. He hugged back and let the burning feeling calm him down, all while being shushed slowly by his friend, soft whispers gliding down his ear in a gentle, relaxing way.

_Richie didn’t want to go._ If it was to be his choice, he’d want to stay there forever, held down under the dim light of the evening, Eddie’s gentle touch stroking his back, showing him support, calming him down... ‘Cause Richie wouldn’t be able to calm down by himself. He was a raging teenager with ADHD, he wouldn’t simmer down. He would have Eddie for that, he’d have the others for that. They ought to be the ones to calm Richie down, with their gentle words and dim whispers.

_He didn’t want to go away._

“I don’t wanna go, Eds.” he confessed out loud this time, each word hitched up by another sob. “Gods, i _don’t_ want to go... If it was for me, i’d stay. Believe me Eddie, i’d stay here with you... and- and the others... I-”

“Richie, calm down...” Eddie muttered again, in the same soft, timid voice. “_God_; you’re shaking.” 

The smaller boy drew a bit away from the hug and looked deep into the other boy’s eyes and reddened figure. Eddie was taken by surprise to notice that his friend’s eyes were, for the first time, lucid. He saw something deep inside the other boy’s blue irises; something that seemed to be, until then, hidden away. The small boy could gaze deep into Richie’s naked eyes and see something he would have never expected to notice into the ‘trashmouth’’s usually joyful look. Eddie looked at his friend and found sparkly eyes staring back at him, shaken up by splotches of tears jumbled up within his lower eyelid, eyes that seemed to hold some kind of dreadful glint, almost greedy... fearful.

But what was Richie really afraid of?

Moving away? Running away from his past, from the best friends he’d ever have?

Eddie was confused by the batches of ideas that were now tugging at his brain.

Shouldn’t Richie be happy? That he was going away from all this crazy saga? Away from this cursed town, from this living nightmare?

Shouldn’t Richie be happy that he could finally move away, forget all about this traumatizing shit?

Forget...

_‘Maybe forgetting is really what Richie is afraid of.’_ Eddie thought with dim realization.

Eddie caressed his thumb across the soft skin under Richie’s eye, melting away his friend’s tears; a gesture of affection that quiet surprised the taller boy. However, that was not the act that would surprise him the most. No. The one that did so, though, was when Eddie leaned in slowly, as if he wanted to receive some kind of permission for what he was about to do next. The small boy took a glance at his right and at his left, as if anxious that somebody might be watching, before placing a sweet, lingering kiss on his friend’s cheek. The soft texture of the boy’s lips blossomed some sort of scarlet shade on Richie’s cheek and all the way down his neck. And just this: the immense affection that seemed to be transmitted by this gesture made Richie broke into a new wave of tears all over again.

And so that day meant something for Richie; it definitely did. Maybe it was the way his friends seemed so much more dear to the tall boy that early afternoon, even though they acted the same way they always used to. Maybe it was the way his best friend held him in his arms when Richie confessed his fear, the way he didn’t let go of the embrace, not until almost one hour later, when the two have said their final goodbyes.

_“Goodbye, Eds.” Richie said, trying to swallow his sobs entirely. Then he hesitated for a moment, before continuing in a genuine tone, one that was not drown in mockery or stupid jokes, but one of sincere and pure affection. “...i love you.” he spoke, and he meant it._

_The smaller boy’s eyes widened, but they didn't drew away in embarrassment or fear. His gaze glued to Richie’s, he smiled melancholy and spoke in return: “I love you, too. Goodbye, Rich.”. And that’s when he walked away. That’s when Richie though Eddie walked away for the last time. and so the taller boy drew in another sob._

And, yeah, sure; that kiss on the cheek earlier that evening might have been enough of a silent ‘i love you’ to the two boys, but this one... This sincere confession was more. Richie couldn’t really figure out what, though.

And he said those three words again, next morning, visiting each of his friends’ houses, to say his final goodbyes. Confused and hurt expressions have been masked with sad smiles and tight hugs, tears have been shred, promises have been made

_“I’ll visit you, guys, i promise.”_

, and also later broken apart.

_“Don’t forget about us, jackass.” Beverly spoke, voice muffled away by sparkly tears down her chin._

“I won’t.” Richie said in return, not in a much better state. “I’ll never forget about you guys.

_I **promise**.”_

But not only lies have been spoken that early morning, right?

_“I love you, guys.”_ Richie confessed to Bill, Mike, Ben and all the others, except for Eddie, though. Because he has already said his goodbye to Eds last night. He didn’t think he’d bring himself to do it for the second time. Besides, that last goodbye he had said to the smaller boy yesterday evening had been so perfect, he wanted to keep it and _remember_ it that way.

_“I love you all so much.” he repeated sincerely to each of his friends, eyes melting together in melancholy and regret._

_“We love you too, Rich.” they had all respond. “We always will.”_

And that has never been and _never_ will be a lie.

And so those confessions have been spoken right before Richard stepped into his dad’s old Ford car and blended away into the distance, bleeding under the early morning’s sunlight.

The boy had looked out of the window at the passing hills, taking his last glances at the Kenduskeag and all the other straws of golden water flooding all around town, burning with shiny small flames under the morning bright light. It was March, and the Canal used to have a terrifying, irresistible power right after the ice went out. The water boiled and gushed in white little hillocks, carring sticks and branches and all kinds of junk. The city seemed to move joyfully altogether, jiggle, and yet Richie felt still, blocked in time by the impossible thoughts still grasping at his mind.

And while looking down at the window, he though about those words again. Those stupid three words that seemed to mean the world to him right then.

They felt so different, the way he’d said them to Eddie that late evening, and then to his friends this earlier morning. But _why?_ That’d bother Richie’s mind.

_’i love you’_

The wonder of what these three words truly meant would cling to him forever.

_‘I love you, too. **Goodbye, Rich.’**_

And so he though about these words again.

He thought about Eddie, about his best friends, about all the places they’d been together to, about all the things they’d been together _through._

The memories would hit him coldly, but familiarly, just like a big boulder a few times after leaving Derry.

_He’d think about those memories, he’d think about them, indeed._

_the next day after he left Derry,_

_the week after,_

_even the year after, even though that bright light those flashback used to be making started to get pretty dim._

_And then..._

_And then they finally drowned, sinking down the dark cellar of his mind as if they had never even been there._


End file.
